Sorry folks - blogged in a bit of a hurry last night, so didn't give you the full colour or flavour of the London weekend, or the new, largely fear and humiliation-based determination I have to get this sorted. Fear of dying a meaningless death on the floor of a mall somewhere with my potential leaking out into the ether, untapped. Fear of not finding out where the story goes, cos man, that would piss me off. And I daresay will piss me off, whenever my story actually ends. For those of you who believe in ghosts, I'll be the voice you can't get out of your head, whispering "Go on...and then what happened?"
And of course, the humiliation of the Self-Esteem Dalek, essentially. Lots of fat people say that "inside, there's a thin person trying to get out". Yeah, well I've met mine. I've been mine (not thin exactly, but shedloads thinner than this!). Granted, he was a bit of an ass. But then, the fat me's a bit of an ass too, so I'm figuring it's time to just accept my Inner Ass, and be the version that's less statistically likely to fall over and die in a random Starbucks.The one who can go into stores and pick clothes off racks. The one people are less likely to laugh at when he walks by. Sure, why not be that ass?
So today, we begin again.
Weighed in this morning, unexercised, at 19 stone dead (so to speak) - that's 266 lbs. Just one and a half stone (21 lbs for our American friends) lighter than when I first started all this, having been given the option of bareatric surgery.
Same schtick as ever - the aim is to do this for a year, minimum, losing 2 lbs a week (the recommended safe limit amount). This time round I know a thing or two, like I'll drop a good few pounds as soon as I really start, and that most of it will be water. Like there'll be evil bastard plateaus where even if I'm good, I'll go backwards. The thing to do of course is to locate your focus in the future, on the long-term goal, rather than the short-term pleasure of eating things that will stop me achieving that goal as quickly and safely as I could.
Let's do the mathematics of optimism for a moment.
2 lbs a week means 8 lbs per calendar month, or 16 lbs (1 stone 2 lbs) every two calendar months.
So on the weigh-in nearest 10th August, I should be down to 17st 12.
10th October should see me at 16st 10.
10th December, 15st 8.
10th February, 14st 6.
10th April, 13st 4.
And 10th June 2015 should see me at 12st 2. If I get anywhere near that, I'll probably instigate a goal of getting to see an 11 before the one-year deadline, and push through the seven stone barrier. I've also just done the pound-mathematics, and if I get to 11st 12 lbs, I'll have lost a hundred pounds from where I am today.
The point is, I probably won't. As I say, I know a little bit more this time, and I know setbacks will happen. But if nothing else, the mathematics of optimism are a useful delusion to help push me forward.
A useful bit of honesty to push me forward was delivered by my optician this morning - he's very happy with me. All of the diabetic retinopathy issues I had when I saw him a year ago have been "re-absorbed" - don't tell me the body's not a weird little wonderland! - and there's no change in my prescription. All good with the eyeballs, which, as I may not have to tell you, is a BIG freakin' relief, given that my living is made through their use.
Today begins the rise and rise of the perspex walls again - the perspex walls between me and what will keep me from my goals. I'll be honest with you - I've almost entirely forgotten what self-denial feels like (though oddly enough, not the guilt that attaches to self-indulgence - can't win in my head!), so there may well be whining and bitching and moaning to be had here in the early stages...which probably means about the next half-year. But there's an odd, non-celebratory, quiet sense of getting on and doing this thing in my head too, which I'm hoping is a good sign. I know we've begun again many a time, but on the other hand, you should be used to it by now. So let's begin again...again...and see where we end up. Will it be seven stone or a hundred pound lighter? Probably not. Will it be less haunted by the Self-Esteem Dalek and less likely to drop dead of a tachycardic madness?
Yes. Yes, that much at least I can promise.
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